


100+ First Times

by stellarmeadow



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4229811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of an experiment for me--it's actually a series of individual stories, one story per chapter, each chapter taking an episode, in order, and that chapter looks at how that episode might've led to Steve and Danny's first time. I might take liberties with the term "first time" - could be just a kiss, could be sex, etc. </p><p>We'll see if it works! :) </p><p>~~~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 101 - Pilot

"Come on," Steve said, eyeing Danny across the short expanse of the couch. "You have to admit it was pretty cool."

Danny shook his head, the exaggeration of the movement suggesting to Steve that maybe Danny was a little tipsy. "I don't gotta admit anything."

"Come on, Dannooooo." Steve frowned at his own words. Maybe Danny wasn't the only tipsy one.

"Seriously, what did I say about you calling me that?"

Steve raised an eyebrow, or possibly two--he wasn't quite sure. "Sorry, being shot makes me forget things. Can't remember."

Danny leaned in a little, peering at Steve's shoulder as if he could see the wound under Steve's shirt and a nice, thick bandage. "How's it feeling?"

Steve gave a shrug with his good shoulder. "I'd say it's about a six on my gunshot comparison scale."

"You've been shot enough to have your own comparison scale?"

"Haven't you?"

Danny shook his head. "No, but I have a feeling you might change that."

"Why would you say that?"

"You got me shot the first day I knew you." Danny said. "That might be an indicator."

Steve's lips quirked up. "I don't see you leaving."

"I don't remember being given a choice."

Something cold slithered into Steve's chest, winding around his heart. "You're not actually conscripted, Danny," he said quietly. "You can go wherever you want."

Danny eyed Steve a long time, the look melting that ice in Steve's chest. "Nah," Danny said, his voice laced with something Steve couldn't identify, "the pay's better here. Not to mention the offices," he added, waving a hand around at Steve's office. "The couches alone are a serious upgrade from my desk at HPD."

"So the pay and the couches, that's why you're staying?"

Danny's tongue snaked out, wetting his lips, and Steve's breath caught in his throat. "Is there some other reason I should be sticking around?" Danny asked. 

The invitation was clear enough in Danny's voice, or at least Steve hoped it was, hoped he wasn't misreading the situation. He leaned in, giving Danny enough time to push him away, to make an excuse without this getting awkward. 

Instead, Danny leaned in, too. 

The first kiss was warm and soft; the second hotter and wetter. By the time Steve had his tongue down Danny's throat, he'd lost count. He was far more focused on getting Danny horizontal on the couch and getting both their pants out of the way. 

Their cocks free at last, Steve wet his palm, not missing the groan from Danny at the motion, before wrapping it around both of their cocks. The couch was long, but it wasn't even as wide as a twin bed. It left them pressed close together and unable to push hard, but the friction from Steve's hand was enough, and being able to feel every shiver that went through Danny's body was a bonus as far as Steve was concerned.

Steve came in an embarrassingly short time, barely aware of his surroundings again when he felt Danny come as well. They lay there, remembering how to breathe, for a while, until Danny finally stirred. "We should probably get cleaned up," he said, his voice quiet, his face unreadable.

Shit. "What's the rush?" Steve said, trying to sound normal.

"It's late," Danny said, "and while this couch is very comfortable, we're going to start to stick to it soon."

Steve studied him for a long moment. "That the only reason?"

"Well," Danny said, "there's also the fact that a nice bed would allow for a lot more than a quick fumble on the couch."

Oh. "Um...yeah. That'd be, um...."

"Unless that's not what you want," Danny said quietly.

"No--I mean yes. Yeah. That'd be--my bed is much bigger than this."

"So is mine," Danny said.

Steve laughed softly. "It may be bigger, Danno, but I promise mine is softer." 

"What'd I tell you about that name?"

Steve smiled, sliding a leg between Danny's and pulling him even closer. "Rule #1 in the dealing with Danny Williams playbook," Steve said, "is 'Never listen to what Danny says, stick to body language.'"

"There's a rulebook?"

"If there isn't, there should be." Steve grinned. "I think I'll start writing it."

Danny rolled his eyes. "You're insufferable, you know that, right?"

Steve shrugged. "Everybody thinks that about people who are usually right." He'd barely finished the sentence when he found himself on his back on the floor. "Hey!"

Danny peered over the couch to look down at Steve. "Sorry," he said, clearly insincerely. "Total accident."

"Rule #1 says otherwise."

"Rule #1 can go fuck itself."

Steve leaned up on his elbows, bringing himself up almost far enough to kiss Danny. "I'd rather fuck you." 

Danny swallowed. "There is definitely not enough room on this couch for that."

"I repeat--my bed is much bigger."

Danny rolled off the couch, somehow managing to land on his feet without stepping on Steve. He leaned over to pull Steve up. "Come on, hot shot, let's see this bed of yours."

"Sure thing, Danno," Steve said, as he did up his trousers.

"Seriously, you're gonna pay if you keep calling me that."

"Rule #1," Steve said, distracted by Danny's ass until it was completely covered by Danny's pants once more.

"Maybe you'd rather show Rule #1 your bed instead."

Steve gave Danny his best mock contrite look. "My sincerest apologies, Sir Daniel. I will endeavor to use your correct name from now on."

Danny nodded, a glint in his eye that Steve thought he might be far too fond of for his own good. "See that you do."

***


	2. 102	- ʻOhana - Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Steve and Danny might have gotten together in episode 102.
> 
> ~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of stand alone chapters. You don't have to have read other chapters to read this one - it was just easier to collect them in one story instead of over 100 stories in a series on AO3.
> 
> ~~~

The apartment seemed more empty than usual when Danny walked in, the door echoing a little as it closed. He switched on the TV more for the noise than anything, finding a baseball game before he took off his tie and jacket. 

He undid a few buttons on his way to the fridge, starting in on his beer before he was even back to the couch. The game couldn't hold his attention, so he flipped through channels, looking for distraction, but nothing on the TV helped. 

He'd been so busy being annoyed with Steve McGarrett most of the time that he'd managed not to notice that the annoying personality came in a nice package. A very nice package. 

Well, okay, so maybe he'd noticed. He'd just managed to hide that fact from himself quite nicely until today. Until Steve had walked in wearing that fucking uniform. 

It had taken all of Danny's self control to remember English.

He took another long drink and looked up at the TV, groaning when he realized he'd managed to stop on the end of _An Officer and a Gentleman_.

Danny didn't want to be picked up and carried off by anyone, uniform or no. He would not, however, mind removing the uniform from a certain Navy SEAL, one layer at a time.

The thought left his throat dry, and he took another drink as he flipped away from the movie to something with a lot of explosions going on. The first knocking he heard, he blamed it on the movie, but the second was louder, more insistent, and clearly coming from Danny's front door.

With a sigh, he got up, finishing his beer on the way to the door. Steve stood on the other side, still in his uniform, still looking better than anyone had a right to. "You get lost?" Danny said, refusing to clear his throat, even if it felt like something was lodged in it. 

Steve shook his head, and seriously, how could he make even that look sexy? "I realized with everything this afternoon, winding up the case and then making sure Kono got a ceremony, we forgot to eat."

Danny raised both eyebrows. "You want to go get dinner?"

"Nope." Steve held up a brown paper bag. "I brought food."

"Oh, well in that case," Danny said, stepping back and pulling the door open wide enough for Steve to get in, "come on in." 

Steve moved to the middle of the room and looked around. "Your bed disappeared," he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he glanced at the fold out couch, then at Danny.

"It's magic," Danny said. "I'd tell you the secret behind it, but then I'd have to kill you." Danny headed for the kitchen. "Want a beer?"

"Yeah." 

Danny grabbed one for Steve and a fresh one for himself, only to almost drop them as he turned back to the living room. Steve was lounging--there was no other word for it--on the couch, undoing his tie. Danny watched, mouth dry, as Steve slid the tie off and tucked it into his pocket before undoing a few of the buttons. 

"What?" Steve asked.

"Huh?"

"That face," Steve said. "What's with the face?" 

Danny shook his head. "What face?" he asked as he crossed the room. He handed Steve the beer, then sat as far away from Steve as he could get while still on the same couch. 

He really needed to get an extra chair or something. 

Steve was eyeing him as though he wasn't buying it, but he didn't push. "Don't you want to know what's for dinner?" Steve asked. 

At Danny's raised eyebrow, Steve handed him the bag. Danny opened it, surprised to see that it was full of malasadas. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Steve. "I thought you didn't eat these."

Steve shrugged. "They're not for me."

Danny bit into a malasada, savoring the taste as he thought about that. "You came over here," he said after a moment, the words slow, "just to bring me malasadas?"

"Well," Steve said, scratching at the back of his neck, "yeah. I mean, you didn't eat, and I figured you'd probably be more likely to eat those than--"

"Steven," Danny interrupted. "You brought me malasadas, and now you're babbling." 

Steve blinked. "I, um...."

Danny sighed--really, the guy was as much of a Neanderthal as Danny had thought. Assuming Danny was reading this right. He hoped he was, or he was about to make a big mistake. "You know," Danny said, leaning up to put the malasadas on his makeshift coffee table, making sure he was a little closer to Steve when he sat back, "you might like malasadas and just not know it."

Steve was staring at Danny's mouth, and oh, no, Danny was pretty sure he hadn't read this wrong. "You think?" Steve asked, his voice husky.

"I do." Danny finished off the malasadas, taking the time to lick each finger, watching as Steve swallowed hard at the action. "You might not have tried them properly."

Steve's response was delayed. "How's that?"

"Here," Danny said, "I'll show you."

He leaned in, nerves calming a little when Steve leaned in as well. The kiss was slow and easy, almost a test run, before Danny pulled back just enough to see Steve's face. He took in the sugar on Steve's lips, transferred from Danny's, feeling a surge of want as Steve licked it off his own lips. 

"You know," Steve said, grabbing Danny's shirt and pulling him back in, "I think I might like malasadas after all."

\----------


	3. 103 - Malama Ka ʻAina - Respect the Land

_Maybe you're not as alone here as you think, Danno._

The words echo in Danny's head after he goes home, taking more of his attention than he's really comfortable with. 

It's not about the nickname--he's given up trying to talk Steve out of that, doesn't even want to anymore, if he's honest. His protests are more for show, because he's learned that if you give McGarrett an inch, he'll take a few thousand miles. 

Danny's entire life in Hawaii until recently has been mostly hell. He'd endure it all for Grace--would go through far worse--but apart from Meka and the occasional nice view, paradise has sucked.

Until Steve.

Okay, sure, he's been shot, shot at a lot more, and he's pretty sure that Steve's driving is going to be what actually gets him killed, not the increase in gunfire. But he has genuine satisfaction in doing his job again, he has a team that feels the same way, one that has his back a hundred percent. 

And he has Steve.

Steve, who'd all but kidnapped Danny and refused to let him go--he'd joked to his parents about expecting a ransom note and still hasn't figured out why they just laughed. Steve, who'd given Danny the job and the team, who had quietly made sure Danny had a raise, that he could do things with his daughter.

Steve, who Danny would have sworn on a stack of Bibles had no clue how to speak to anyone under the age of 20, but then he talked to Grace like he was an expert on handling kids. Who'd left such an impression on Grace that Steve has been practically every other word out of her mouth since. 

And then Steve went to the Governor to strong arm Stan to make sure Danny didn't lose what little time he's allowed with his daughter.

Danny still hasn't quite processed that one, or the fact that Steve wouldn't have said a word if Danny hadn't asked him point blank. He'd just side stepped his admission, playing it down even after he was called on it. 

Seriously, Danny doesn't even know how to deal with the guy. How is he even real? And how the hell is he not married? Danny remembers mention of some woman, but it didn't appear to be serious, and she was never around. Steve seems to spend every night he isn't working or with Danny alone, at his house, going through his father's things as he ignores the barely-visible stains of his father's blood splattering the wall. 

Danny knows he can't fix that. He can't bring Steve's dad back, and he can't force Steve to move out of the house. But he can force him not to be alone. 

He grabs his keys and his phone and heads for the door. 

***

It's not until Danny's knocking on Steve's door that he wonders if this is a good idea. Maybe Steve wants to be alone. Maybe he isn't alone. Maybe he's with that girl--Carla? Candy? He can't remember her name, only that she was Navy and that she and Steve might have at some point had a thing. And if he's really honest, he might've blocked her name out. 

Not that he was jealous. Nope. Not one bit.

He ignores that little voice in his head and knocks, because he's already there, and why waste hot pizza and cold beer? Steve answers, that odd expression Danny catches sometimes, somewhere between caution and fondness, on his face. "I didn't order pizza," Steve says. 

Two can play at that game. "Oh, sorry, I must've delivered to the wrong house." 

Danny turns, but before he can even get halfway around, Steve grabs his arm. "As long as you're here...." Steve says, dragging him into the house. 

Danny keeps going, hearing Steve close the door behind them as Danny heads for the couch. Danny sits and holds out a beer as Steve joins him. There's a baseball game on the TV, the sound down low, but it's comfortable as they eat and watch, despite the lack of conversation. 

It's not until the pizza box is empty and they're both into their second beers that Steve glances over at Danny, looking up through his lashes, brow furrowed. 

"What?" Danny asks, when Steve just keeps looking.

Steve worries at his lip with his teeth a little, and Danny swallows hard. "I--" Steve starts, then takes a breath. "Why'd you show up with beer and pizza?"

It takes Danny a few seconds to comprehend the question because it's not what he was expecting. This is the kind of thing he's familiar with, the kind of thing you do for a friend, especially when he's done something nice for you.

And if he likes spending time with Steve, that's just an added bonus.

Danny shrugs. "A guy can't bring pizza and beer without twenty questions?" At Steve's look, Danny says, "I don't know. I just thought...we both needed to eat, and I figured...." _Oh this is going swimmingly, Danny, you schmuck._ "You've done a lot," Danny says, shrugging again, "I mean, the dolphins for Grace, and talking to the Governor, and...I don't know--thank you, I guess?"

"So the pizza and beer," Steve says slowly, "is a thank you?"

No. No, it's really not, it's so much more, and shit, how did Danny miss it entirely until just now? Not that he can own up to his own highly inappropriate revelation. "Why not?"

He's starting to feel like a bug under a magnifying glass, exposed and burning up under Steve's intense stare. Something shifts in Steve's face, and Danny's still trying to figure out what it is as Steve leans in, suddenly, not stopping until his lips are so close Danny can feel his breath. 

"You want to leave," Steve says, his voice low, like a jolt that goes straight down Danny's throat to his cock, "now's your chance."

Oh, no, Danny does not want to leave. He wants to stay, he wants--well, he wants. He wants badly enough that he closes the distance with some kind of sound he's never heard his own throat make before. 

Steve's lips are cool from the beer, his mouth an intoxicating mix of Longboard, tomato sauce and something far more addictive. Danny never wants to stop kissing him, wants to just keep doing this until the sun blows up or something. 

And then he feels Steve's hand, palming Danny's cock before working at the button and zipper to free it. Danny actually whimpers as he returns the favor, and then he finds himself on his back on the couch, Steve covering him, hand holding both their cocks as they move together. 

He feels Steve go still as he comes, as his teeth sink into Danny's shoulder, the combination enough to send Danny over the edge as well. It feels like minutes before Danny can really think again, when he realizes he's wrung out and sweaty on a leather couch, his hand and shirt starting to get sticky, and he's got a six foot tall human blanket covering him. 

He never wants to move.

Except Steve's getting heavy--seriously, all that muscle weighs a ton. Danny shifts, and that's all it takes for Steve to sit up. By the time Danny's upright again, Steve's already buttoned himself back up. Danny does the same automatically, not sure what the protocol is for this, already starting to worry that maybe he's fucked up the best thing that's happened to him since moving to Hawaii.

"So," Steve says, pausing to clear his throat. "Was that another thank you?"

Danny blinks at him. "What?"

Steve shrugs. "You said you were here to thank me, so...."

Seriously, Danny's never met someone with this many issues. "If I just wanted to thank you," Danny says, leaning in a little, "I'd send you a card."

He sees the relief in Steve's eyes, the hint of a smile on his face. "Not even flowers?"

"Nope. I draw the line at flowers."

"Good to know." The smile fades as Steve he stands, gathering the remnants of dinner. "It's getting late," he says, looking at the coffee table. "And you've had a few beers. You're welcome to stay." He picks up the napkins with more care than they really warrant. "The spare room's made up, or...."

Danny's not sure if he doesn't want to finish the question, or he doesn't know how. "What, your bed not big enough for two?"

He can see the full force of Steve's smile from the side as Steve says, "I think it'll manage, yeah."

\---  
END


	4. 104 - Lanakila - Victory

The sudden attack of nerves as he raises his hand to knock takes Steve by surprise. It's just Danny's door, it's not like he hasn't knocked on it when he knew he was totally unwanted. There's no reason to suddenly be nervous about knocking on it now. 

He knocks, standing his ground as he hears footsteps grow closer. Danny opens the door. He looks surprised, but not annoyed, and Steve lets out a breath. "We get a case?" Danny asked.

"No," Steve said, holding up the bag in his hand. "I realized we never got to eat pancakes yesterday, so I thought I'd bring some over." At Danny's pause, Steve quickly adds, "I mean, I know it's not afternoon, it's evening, but Mary's out with a friend, and I thought...we both have to eat, right?"

Danny nods, that something that set Steve off babbling still there, but he still doesn't look annoyed. He pulls back the door and ushers Steve in. 

"I never turn away pancakes," Danny says.

Steve crosses the tiny apartment and puts them on the dining table. "I'm sure the criminal element would be happy to know that all they'd need to do to get into your place," Steve teases. "Though, really, I'm not sure there's anything in here they'd want to steal."

"That's great--you come to visit me, I welcome you into my home, and you immediately start mocking the place. Lovely manners you have, Steven."

The teasing note in Danny's voice, combined with that glint in his eye, tells Steve Danny doesn't mean anything by it, and Steve slowly unclenches his fist. "Sorry, Miss Manners. I'll brush up on my etiquette before I visit again."

"See that you do." 

Danny's still smiling as he goes to the kitchen to get plates and silverware. They dish out their food and move to the couch that, wonder of wonders, is actually a couch and not a bed at the moment. The baseball game Danny was watching is still on, the volume low, and they watch as the eat. 

Danny's stories about Yankees games with his family make Steve's heart ache just a little for what he never had growing up. He still likes the stories, though, likes hearing about Danny's happy memories, and the way his voice sounds when he tells them. It's almost like listening to him talk to Grace, and Steve has done more of that than he'd care to admit to, just to hear Danny's happy voice.

Steve's finished his pancakes, his plate dumped on the crate that serves as a coffee table, when Danny nudges him. 

"Hm?" Steve asks, distractedly, his eyes, if not his mind, on the game.

"What's with the face?" Danny asks.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't so obvious that his mind wasn't on the game. "What's with you and my faces?"

"If you stop making them, I'll stop asking about them."

"What," Steve asks, turning a little on the couch to look at Danny, "am I supposed to go around blank faced all the time? Or wear a mask?"

Danny raises his eyebrow and damn, he bets that look gets Grace to confess to just about anything. Steve blows out a hard breath. "I was just thinking," he says. "That's all."

"About?"

"This need for interrogation," Steve says. "Is it because you're a cop, or are you just naturally nosy?" Danny just stares back with that look again. "Okay, fine. It's not that big a deal. I was just thinking about Dana and Craig--or Paul, whatever his name is."

After a few seconds, Danny prods again. "What about them?"

"I took Dana down to see him at the hospital, and she just...she told him she still loved him. Wondered why he didn't tell her in the first place." Steve shakes his head. "How could she just forgive him like that? I mean, what is it like to love someone so much that you can just forgive them for being a bank robber and lying to you about who they were all that time, and still love them anyway? How could you trust anyone like that again, let alone the _same_ person?"

Danny doesn't answer for a long moment. "I don't know," he says finally. "I mean, in the end, I couldn't forgive Rachel for the sin of not wanting me to be someone I wasn't, and she couldn't forgive me for being myself. So I don't know--maybe me and Rachel just didn't love each other enough." Danny shrugs. "But you can't give up. I mean, not everybody is gonna stomp on your heart and rip it through several divorce lawyers, right?"

Steve thinks about that, about how Rachel moved 5,000 miles because she wanted to get away from Danny. Get Grace away from him, like he's some kind of bad influence. "I don't get it," Steve says. "I don't understand how anyone would want you to be anything other than you. You're a dedicated cop, an even more dedicated father. You moved 5,000 miles to a place you hate for your kid, man. Who would want to change that?"

Danny shrugs. "Ask Rachel."

"Rachel was an idiot," Steve says. Before he can think, Steve leans in and kisses Danny. After a second, Danny kisses him back, and Steve feels the fist around his lungs loosen its hold just a little. And when Steve pulls back, Danny's smiling.

Maybe he understands, just a little, how you can trust someone after all.

\----------


	5. 105 - Nalowale - Forgotten/Missing

It doesn't feel right. 

Not that it's any different--Catherine feels amazing in his arms as always, soft, warm and willing. Everything a guy could want with no strings attached. In bed, they're a perfect match. So perfect that they never even get around to dinner. 

Which suddenly doesn't feel right.

"Okay," Steve says, breaking the kiss and rolling off Catherine and onto his back to check on the steaks, "dinner first."

She's silent for a moment, and he glances over his shoulder to find her studying him, a small frown on her face. "Really?" she says, when she catches him looking.

"What?" He shrugs, turning his attention back to the steaks. "You keep saying that I never actually give you dinner." 

Her hand lands on his back, tentative for the first time since they'd met. "Hey," she says, and he twists around to look at her. "What's wrong?" she asks. 

"Nothing." It's not exactly a lie; nothing's wrong. It's just not right, either.

After a moment, she drops her hand. "Okay," she says, sitting up carefully. "Better give me that steak then, because I have to get back to the base."

She hadn't mentioned it before; he'd assumed she was planning on staying the night. But he doesn't question it, he just pulls the steak off the grill and takes another drink of wine. 

***

She kisses him before she leaves, warm and careful. He kisses back, but still that sense of not right stays with him, even after the door closes behind her. 

Steve cleans up the dishes, going over the day in his head, trying to figure out what's different. He was fine with Catherine when she arrived, more or less, until the Governor called and interrupted. The case was a sad one, sure, but he's seen worse. 

And then there was Danny. Teasing Steve about getting laid, mocking his thing with Catherine. Though his voice seemed to have an edge to it by the end of the day, jealous of the fact that Steve was not sleeping alone, no doubt. 

Steve reviews the comments Danny made throughout the case about Steve's sex life and frowns. He thinks about Danny in general, cranky and obstinate, but careful with Steve, in his own way. Quick to touch and stand too close. 

Maybe Danny's jealousy wasn't that Steve was sleeping alone. Maybe it was that Steve wasn't sleeping with him.

Ridiculous. Impossible. 

And yet...

He's done a good job of pretending to ignore the electricity in the room these last few weeks--close quarters in the Navy does wonders for learning how to hide attraction after all, especially when said attraction could get you kicked out. 

But he's not as unaware of himself as he'd like everyone to believe. Nor is he so good at self-delusion that he can pretend he doesn't remember a few dreams that woke him up since he met Danny.

Well, he could pretend, but he can't now. Not that he's finally acknowledged it in the light of day, so to speak.

He suddenly really needs to know if he's right. He could wait until tomorrow, drop some hints, maybe see if Danny lets anything slip. 

But he's never been one for inaction when there was something he could do.

***

Danny answers his door on the second knock, a t-shirt clearly thrown on over his boxers in haste. "What," Danny asks, sounding as downtrodden as he can for someone who, Steve is certain, is checking Steve out from head to toe, "is wrong with you? Do you not believe in phones?"

Steve shrugs. "Some things have to be done in person, Danno."

Danny gives him a sigh and an annoyed look, but Steve doesn't miss how Danny leans closer, not now. "Okay, I know I gave you a pass on the name earlier because of the situation, but that does not mean--"

Steve kisses him.

Danny freezes for just long enough that Steve worries he got it wrong, that he's just made a huge mistake, and then Danny is kissing him back, and everything is finally, for the first time that night, just right.

Steve pulls back when he needs to breathe, smiling down as he disengages himself from Danny's embrace, enjoying the way Danny looks flustered, dazed, and yet still a little annoyed. 

"What," Danny says, pausing for breath, "was that?"

"Just wanted to test a theory," Steve says, stepping back. "Goodnight, Danno."

Steve doesn't make it all the way around before Danny's grabbing his arm, pulling him back into the apartment. "Goodnight?" Danny says, closing the door and pushing Steve up against it. "You're just going to kiss me and then say goodnight? Seriously, were you raised by wolves or something? You don't just kiss a guy and then leave like that. Come to think of it," Danny says, and for all that he sounds vaguely pissed off, his hands are roaming up underneath Steve's shirt like he owns him, "most people talk before there's kissing like that."

Steve shrugs. "Talk is overrated."

Danny's eyeroll shouldn't be sexy, but somehow he manages. "You would think that, you crazy wolf man."

"Just so we're clear," Steve says, leaning back against the door and pushing his hips forward so they grind against Danny's, "it's the not talking before the kiss that's the issue, and not the kiss itself?"

"No, it's the leaving after the kiss that's the issue, Steven. You don't just kiss a guy and leave!"

A feeling bubbles up through Steve's chest and lets itself out of his throat in the form of a laugh. "So you want me to stay, then?"

The annoyed look remains for another few seconds before Danny sighs, and Steve can only call this new look fond. "I must be completely out of my mind," he says, "but yes, I would like very much for you to stay."

"I would love to," Steve says, leaning in for a kiss, and yes...he knows that feeling. That feeling is definitely right.

\------


	6. 106 - Koʻolauloa - North Shore of Oʻahu

It was that damn goofy smile. 

Every time Danny thinks about it--which is way more than he really wants to own up to--it's always the damn goofy smile that gets him. 

His comment had been meant in the same obnoxious way he thought Steve had meant that ridiculous claim that the four hundred times he's said 'Book 'em, Danno,' it was a term of endearment. 

But no, when Danny blithely replied that he liked it, Steve's face lit up with that smile. That fucking annoying, amazing, gorgeous, blinding smile. 

What the hell is Danny supposed to do with that? 

He's always been a sucker for a smile. The first time he met Rachel, he'd been so blindsided by her smile that he hadn't even known the color of her eyes for a week. He knows the color of Steve's eyes, though--all the colors, really, since he's catalogued four different ones in the time they've known each other. 

But this is the first time he's seen that smile, and now he wants to see it again. Or, rather, see it for real, since the memory of it is burned on the back of his eyelids and he sees it every time he blinks. 

He's spent a lot of time with his eyes open the last few hours. 

Steve pulls the Camaro into his driveway, letting the car idle as he turns to Danny. "Want a beer?"

The dash lights casting shadows over Steve's face, emphasizing his cheekbones, cause Danny to take a second before he answers, "Sure." 

Steve kills the engine and pockets the keys as he jogs up to the door, Danny following more slowly. He can't help but stare at the frankly magnificent ass in front of him, all the things he'd been trying to push down and ignore, to pretend that they didn't affect him, suddenly unleashed by one fucking smile. 

He should turn around and go home. Staying is dangerous, staying and drinking is McGarrett level dangerous. He should just leave. Now.

Except Steve's got his keys. And Steve's holding the door open, his eyebrows trying their best to meet each other with the deep frown on Steve's face. "You coming?"

And there's another thought he didn't need. "Yeah," Danny says. He clears his throat as he goes into the house, following Steve through to the back yard, with a quick detour into the kitchen for beer. 

"You okay?" Steve asks when they get to the beach. He doesn't take a seat, and Danny doesn't either, standing just close enough to smell Steve over the ocean and flowers. 

"Fine," Danny says, taking a drink as he stares at the moon's wavy reflection in water. 

"You sure?"

He can feel Steve's eyes on him and no, he's not sure. In fact, he's more sure that he's not okay. He's not going to be, not as long as he obsesses over that smile. 

"Danno?"

And that. Again. Dammit. He doesn't want to like it as much as he does. "What'd I tell you about that?" Danny says, giving Steve a sideways glance.

The light in Steve's eyes catches Danny's breath. "That you liked it," Steve says, the corner of his mouth twitching like that smile might be thinking about making an appearance. 

"Yeah, and you said it was a term of endearment."

Steve shrugs. "Yeah. And?"

It hits Danny like a wave--not one of the little kiddie waves either, but one of those big building sized ones he has nightmares about. Steve wasn't kidding. "You...." Danny says, moving before he can think, before he can talk himself out of it. 

Danny gets close, leaning up, pressing his lips to Steve's, whose arms circle around Danny's back like he's not letting go anytime soon. Danny relaxes into the kiss, confident now that they're on the same page. 

When Steve lets him up for air, Danny pulls back just enough to see that smile lighting up the night. 

\----


	7. 107 - Hoʻapono - Accept

Danny watched as Steve followed the SWAT team leading Graham in cuffs. He saw the moment that Steve saw them, watched the quick exchanged that ended in Graham uncuffed and running towards his little girl.

Steve walked right by them with SWAT, not even looking remotely concerned that the guy who'd just taken a bunch of people hostage would grab his daughter and take off. And Graham didn't. After a few minutes conversation, he stood and led Lily over to Kono. "Can you please make sure she gets to Susan Keona? She lives next door to us."

"Yeah," Kono said. "I'll take her myself."

"Thank you." 

After one more hug for Lily, and a promise to see her soon, Graham went over to where SWAT waited and got into the truck. Kono pulled Lily into a hug and carried her off to a squad car, getting into the back. 

Chin patted Danny on the shoulder. "I'm going to go ride with them," he said, before taking off.

"Oh sure," Danny muttered. "Leave me alone with Rambo."

He looked around until he saw someone who looked like he might be the Missouri guide Steve had mentioned on the phone. He was sitting on the back of an ambulance, where an EMT was treating his shoulder. Danny glanced over his shoulder to the back of the Camaro, where Steve was putting things into the trunk like no one was around, like it was just another day. 

Danny shook his head and went over to the ambulance. "McKay, right?" he asked.

McKay nodded. "You McGarrett's partner?"

"Yeah." 

"He's something else," McKay said, wincing as the EMT finished cleaning the gunshot with a last hard swipe. 

Danny laughed softly. "Yeah, well, he got me shot, too, the first time I worked with him if it helps."

"Wasn't his fault." McKay dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "My reflexes aren't what they used to be." McKay squinted against the sun as he looked up at Danny. "McGarrett, though--his are as sharp as his grandfather's."

That brought Danny up short. "You knew his grandfather?"

"Yeah. I served on the Arizona. Ensign McGarrett was something, even in drills. And the stories the survivors had about him the day the ship went down are legendary. He saved a lot of men that day."

And yet went down with the ship, Danny thought. Typical McGarrett trait, apparently, one that Steve seemed doomed to try to emulate. "That sounds like a McGarrett."

McKay huffed out a laugh. "I'm not surprised, seeing him in action today--he's clearly a chip off the old block. I thought for sure he was a goner there at the end."

"What'd he do, hurl himself on a grenade?"

"Not quite, but the SWAT boys were going to shoot Graham, and McGarrett launched himself at the guy before they could. Saved his life."

It should be unsettling how little that surprised Danny after only a few months, but since that complete lack of self-preservation instinct also worked to save Danny's ass occasionally, he'd learned to appreciate it. A little. "Yeah, he, uh, does stuff like that," Danny said.

The EMT bandaged up McKay's wound and gave him some care instructions. "You okay to get home?" Danny asked when he was done.

"I'm fine," McKay said. "It'd take more than getting winged to keep me from being able to drive."

Danny had thought Steve was especially insane because of the whole SEAL thing, but apparently it ran rampant all over the Navy. "Glad to hear it," he said. "And thanks for taking care of my partner in there."

"He took care of me," McKay said. "I'd be happy to go into a battle with him any day."

The Navy and insanity definitely went hand in hand. "Take care of yourself," Danny said before he turned and headed back to the car. 

***

Steve pulled into his driveway and put the car in park. He turned to Danny, uttering the first word he'd said since they left. "Beer?"

Danny nodded, and Steve killed the engine. They stayed silent until long after they were seated behind the house, cold Longboards in hand. Danny watched Steve as he stared out at the ocean, wondering what he saw. Was it his own past exploits? Or some ghost of his grandfather fighting to the death? 

Maybe it was just water. 

"That was nice," Danny said, pausing to clear his throat, "what you did for Graham."

Steve took a long drink. "His daughter had been through enough," he said quietly, still staring at the ocean. "She didn't need the memory of her father in cuffs, she needed reassurance before he went away."

"True," Danny said, "but not everyone would've gotten that." Then again, not everyone had Steve's experience with parental trauma.

Steve took another long drink, eyes still on the horizon. After a moment, Danny tried again. "I talked to McKay. He said you took down Graham when SWAT was about to shoot him."

Steve's jaw tightened up, and he took another drink before looking at Danny. "He was about to commit suicide by cop," Steve said, his voice low. "I could see it. And I couldn't let it happen. That little girl had already lost her mother; she didn't need to lose her father, too."

Of course. Danny couldn't believe he'd missed it. Still, one of these times Steve was going to get himself killed recklessly trying to keep someone else from losing a loved one. And Danny couldn't stand by and just watch it happen any more than Steve could. 

"You know," Danny said, "you can't save everyone."

"I never said I could." 

"One of these days, you're gonna do something stupid and reckless--"

"There was nothing stupid or reckless about what I did."

Danny waved a hand. "Maybe not in your head, but one day you're going to go over the line, and it's going to get you killed."

"I know my limits."

"Do you?" Danny put his beer on the table. "Really? Because I'd known you for, what, a day before you drove a car onto a boat with people shooting at us. So what, exactly, are your limits?"

"Danny, I don't need--"

"No, really, Steve? What are your limits? As your partner, I need to know, or I can't back you up. How far is too far before you'll actually stop?"

Steve took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "I stop when the job is done."

"Including going until you get yourself killed?"

"If that's what it takes to get the job done, then yes."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of his nose before opening them again. "You know that there are people who actually give a shit if you live or die, right?"

"Who?" Steve asked, eyes shining. "My parents are dead. My sister couldn't be bothered to come home for Dad's funeral, so I don't think she really cares."

"What about your team, huh? Chin? Kono? What about me? You think I don't give a shit if you live or die?"

"Well, I'd like to assume that you care a little, sure, but if it comes down to it, it's more important that you go home than me."

The words were said with such...calmness. Like it was a statement of fact, like he'd said it was going to rain, and not 'your life is more important than mine,' and it pissed Danny off that he'd saddle Danny with that. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe with a little careful adherence to procedure we might both go home?"

"Obviously that would be the optimal outcome, but Danny, if it came--"

"Don't say it again!" Danny pushed himself out of the chair, taking a few steps towards the beach before turning around and stalking back over to Steve. "I'm going to say this once," Danny said, leaning down to put his hands on the arms of Steve's chair, his face an inch from Steve's, "and I want you to get it through that thick Neanderthal skull of yours, okay?" 

When Steve nodded, Danny continued. "Your life matters. Unless there is imminent danger, calling for backup is not for wusses, it is for cops who want to go home that night. If--and only if--there is no other option, then sure, throw yourself into whatever abyss that needs to be done to save lives. But the option for unnecessary risks is off the table. Are we clear?"

Steve swallowed carefully. "I don't take unnecessary risks."

"That," Danny said slowly, "is a matter of opinion. And also not the answer to my question."

"Fine," Steve said. "I will not take unnecessary risks."

Which wasn't exactly comforting, since Steve's definition of 'unnecessary' seemed a little too broad, but it was a start. And it was enough for Danny to take a risk of his own, to give into the pull of Steve's eyes, that couldn't seem to stop drifting down to Danny's mouth, and to Steve's lips, which he kept wetting. 

At the first touch of Danny's lips, Steve froze just long enough for Danny to think maybe he'd gotten it wrong. Then Steve surged up to his feet, his arms going around Danny's back, his mouth opening to let Danny in. 

Danny wasn't sure how they ended up on the beach, and he had no recollection of undoing either of their pants, but the next thing he knew both their cocks were in Steve's hand between them, and it felt better than it had any right to. 

He came almost embarrassingly fast, Steve right there with him, though, panting harsh and rough in Danny's ear as they both recovered. Moments later, Steve rolled onto his back, and Danny shivered a little, the air cool on his suddenly exposed skin. 

Steve cleared his throat, and Danny braced himself for what might come next. "McKay told me," Steve said softly, pausing to clear his throat again, "that he'd served with my grandfather." Danny can feel the deep breath Steve takes where their arms are pressed together. "Hearing about him from someone who knew him, hearing how I was like him...." 

Steve shifted onto his side, and Danny turned his head to meet Steve's gaze. "I didn't know my grandfather. I barely knew my parents--or at least it feels that way, especially lately. Coming back to Hawaii was...well, I wouldn't have stayed if I hadn't run into you in the garage. If I hadn't needed to take the Governor's offer to get my mission done...I'd have gotten off this island as fast as I could."

Danny wet his lips. "And now?"

"Now...I'm starting to remember what it felt like for Hawaii to be home."

\-----


	8. 108 - Manaʻo - Belief

_I know you._

Steve hears his own words echoing in his head as he follows Danny around the Hanamoa house. He watches Danny take care of Amy, watches him with Billy, and wonders how he missed it this long. He's been so busy trying to take care of Danny--take care of all their team, though if he's honest he knows he focuses more on Danny--that he never noticed how much Danny takes care of everyone else. 

It should've been obvious--Danny is an amazing cop. In just a short time, Steve has seen him show compassion for victims, for Steve himself, even when he'd wanted to punch Steve in the face. He's seen Danny care more about the safety of total strangers he's never met than about his own life, and about the law and doing what needs to be done.

Of course Steve knows him. They're the same.

Their methods are often different, but then so was their training. But deep down, in places Steve tries not look because they tend to be lonely, he and Danny are so alike it's almost terrifying. 

Almost.

Because he knows Danny. He knows Danny wouldn't take advantage of this, wouldn't use it against Steve. Assuming he's even figured it out yet.

_"If IA showed you a stack of evidence against me, would you believe it?"_

_"No."_

_"Why not?"_

Yeah, it's safe to say Danny has figured it out. 

"What's that face?" Danny asks, and Steve realizes they're somewhat alone for the first time since Steve walked through the door. 

Steve shakes his head. "Nothing."

"That is not a nothing face." 

The words are that of an interrogator, but the fond look on Danny's face softens them. "It's nothing," Steve said. At Danny's look, Steve capitulates. "Later," he says, waving a hand.

Danny studies him for a moment, then opens his mouth, just as Amy steps up beside him. Danny's attention turns, focused on the person who needs him most at the moment, and Steve lets out a long, shaky breath. 

***

The sun is long gone when they finally leave Amy, looking a little sad and a lot determined as she tells Danny that no, she doesn't need any more help tonight. After a promise to call him if that changes, she closes the door firmly in his face. Steve walks quietly along beside Danny to the Camaro, automatically going around to the driver's seat. 

"Where's your truck?" Danny asks, standing right beside him.

"I came with Chin and Kono," Steve says. "They left, so I guess you're stuck with me, Danno."

"My own personal albatross," Danny says, managing to sound both annoyed and not, all at once. 

Steve holds out a hand, and Danny drops the keys in them, shaking his head as he goes around to the passenger seat. "You think Amy will be okay?" Steve asks as he pulls away from the curb.

Danny sighs as he looks out the window, the streetlights doing interesting things to his profile. "Eventually," he says. "They make a cop's death all about duty and service--and it is, don't get me wrong--but when you're the one left standing there knowing the person isn't coming home...there's really nothing that helps but time, no matter how much you want to make it okay for them."

The words sound a little too sure, a little too personal, and a little too well-learned to be about Amy. "You lose a partner?" Steve asks, the words soft enough that Danny can pretend that he didn't hear. 

When Danny doesn't answer, Steve doesn't ask again.

***

Steve pulls up in front of his house, the engine still idling as he asks, "You want a beer?"

"Yeah," Danny says, sounding like he could use a keg. 

Steve shuts off the car and gets out, Danny following close behind. They're out back, beers in hand, before Steve says, "I'm sorry."

Danny glances at him. "That's new," he teases, but his eyes are still serious. "For which of your many transgressions are you suddenly feeling remorse?"

"I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you. I should have taken your word for it that Meka was clean."

"No," Danny says, "you did your job, like a good cop." 

Hearing Danny call him a cop sends a little thrill through Steve's body. "But I know you," Steve says. "And I should have listened."

"You did," Danny replies, turning his whole body like it's suddenly important that Steve understands. "You're right, you know me. And you pushed the right buttons. I wouldn't have cleared Meka's name if you hadn't forced me to go see Sang Min. As much as I knew it wasn't Meka, I think I was avoiding talking to Sang Min because somewhere down deep, I was a little afraid he might tell me I was wrong. And you made me face up to it--even if you pissed me off in the process."

The last of it was said with amusement that finally reached Danny's eyes. The sight let Steve's shoulders settle somewhere back into their normal position. "I'm happy I could piss you off?" Steve says in the same tone.

Danny rolls his eyes, lips curving into a small smile. "I'm trying to say thank you, jerk," he teases, before his face turns serious again, his hand landing on Steve's bicep. "Thanks for being a good partner."

Steve swallows hard against the rise of something that 'partner' brings out in him. "Well then you're welcome," he says. 

After a beat, Danny drops his hand, looking out at the ocean, but Steve still feels the ghost of that touch like a brand, even through his uniform. It burns brighter through his whole body as he watches Danny take a drink, notices his lips against the mouth of the bottle, the way his neck works as he swallows. 

He's still watching when Danny turns to face him again. "Now that face," Danny says slowly, "I know."

Steve has no idea what face he's wearing now, but he suspects it's one that has him caught like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. "What face?"

"That one," Danny says, as he puts his beer on the table, "that you're wearing right now."

Steve stares, unable to focus on anything but Danny's wet lips that are suddenly closer, as Danny takes the bottle out of Steve's hand and puts it next to his own. "I don't know what you're talking about." Even to his own ears, Steve realizes how unsure that sounds.

"Yes, you do." Danny sounds so sure of himself, and Steve's glad to hear it, because one of them needs to be, as Danny steps too close, well inside Steve's personal space, close enough that Danny has to be able to feel what being that close does to Steve. "If you didn't, you'd be taking a step back right now."

Steve doesn't want to take a step back. He wants to move forward, to keep moving until he sees if he can actually crawl inside Danny. "How do you know that?"

"Because I know you."

His own words parroted back at him, no longer a surprise. It's a relief, and it's terrifying all at the same time, having someone who is so much alike at the core that he gets Steve, that he's not going to run, not intentionally, when he figures out that sometimes the job is more important than anything, and sometimes the job gets murky. Which is just the tip of the iceberg of all the things he knows about Danny, but right now he's more interested in learning about the things he doesn't know. 

Like how many different ways he can find to make Danny scream in bed. 

"What do you say we go upstairs," Steve says, pausing to clear his throat, "and I'll show you a few things you don't know about me yet?"

"Lead the way."

\--------------------  
END


	9. 109 - Poʻipu - The Siege

"The thing," Steve says, the words slightly slurred, "the thing is..." He twists his neck to look at Danny, and Danny takes the opportunity to grab the beer out of Steve's hand before he drops it on the couch, which is currently in bed mode and does not need a beer bath. "What's the thing, Danno?"

"I don't know," Danny says, taking a drink of Steve's beer, because Steve clearly doesn't need it. Danny had agreed to pay for the Longboards only if they bought them at a store and took them back to his place. It saved him money, but in the longer run he was kind of hoping that Steve would pass out drunk and therefore not spend the night in his house which, in addition to the memory of his father's brain splattered on the wall, Steve's house was now also the most well-ventillated home on Oahu. And that was saying something, the way Hawaiian homes were ventillated.

Steve looks at his hand, then at the beer in Danny's hand. "Mine," Steve says, grabbing the beer and trying to take it back.

"No, I paid for it and therefore it is, by definition mine," Danny counters, trying to pull it out of Steve's grip. "Steven, if you spill this on my bed, I will punch you."

"Again."

"What?"

"You'll punch me again. You already punched me."

Danny shakes his head. "That was months ago."

"You still punched me." Steve frowns, looking at Danny with sad eyes. "Why'd you punch me, Danno?"

"Because you were being an ass."

Steve's mouth twists as if he thinks about it for a moment, before he shrugs. "Fair enough."

"If we're being fair," Danny says, because maybe he's had a beer too many himself, "you had a good excuse. It was a rough week."

Steve sighs, his whole body sinking with it, as if gravity just increased spontaneously. "I've had a few of those recently."

 _Shit._ Danny's plan was to make Steve not think about this stuff, and here he was shining a bright spotlight on it. "Yeah, you have."

"Which is why I deserve this beer. "Steve tugs hard, and the beer goes sideways, going all over Danny's shirt. 

"Steve!" Danny jumps off the bed to keep the beer from running down it, pulling the shirt over his head before the smell can sink into his skin, too. He tosses the shirt in the corner and turns to face the bed. "What did I say about spilling the beer?"

His anger is hard to maintain, though, as Steve looks like a puppy who's been kicked. Repeatedly. "I didn't mean to," he says, his voice small, which is wrong. Steve's voice should never be small.

Danny waves a hand. "Don't worry about it," he says, dropping back down onto the bed. "It didn't get on the bed, so it's not a big deal," he adds, as if they can't both smell the beer on the shirt from across the room. 

"I'm sorry," Steve says anyway, still with that look that makes Danny want to do anything to make it go away. "And now you don't have a shirt."

"I have plenty of shirts, Steven. I'm just not wearing one."

"No," Steve says, nodding. "You're not." He studies Danny's chest very hard, as though he needs to make really sure that Danny isn't wearing a shirt. "Oh!" Steve says, brightening suddenly. "I know how to fix it!"

Before Danny can ask how--or, you know, cuff Steve to the bed for safety (and other reasons he doesn't want to examine)--Steve pulls his shirt off and tosses it over to land on top of Danny's. "See? Now we're even!" 

Which made no sense, or maybe only drunken sense, but Danny isn't going to argue, not when Steve isn't looking so kicked anymore. "Okay," Danny says. "Of course, you won't have a shirt to wear home." 

"No problem," Steve says. "I'll just stay here."

Which is what Danny was aiming for in the first place. Only at the time he wasn't picturing the two of them shirtless and sitting so very close on a bed that already looked like they'd rolled around on it. Steering away from that thought, Danny says, "Excellent idea!" 

And then he gets a good look at Steve's face.

He's studying Danny's chest again, but the look on his face is...focused. No, not exactly focused, it's more than that. Steve lifts his eyes and Danny finally clocks on the look when he sees Steve's eyes. 

Lust.

Fuck.

Danny clears his mind of that thought, of any thought of sex, which works for all of about three seconds, because Steve moves closer, leaning in to capture Danny's mouth in a searing kiss. Danny kisses him back, can't help himself, not under that kind of onslaught. It's too much for anyone to resist, at least at first. 

When he gets his bearings back enough, he pulls back. "We shouldn't," he says against Steve's mouth.

"Yes, we should," Steve says, stealing a couple more kisses before Danny pulls back again. 

"We're drunk," Danny says. "And we're partners."

"Say that again," Steve says, and Danny can only just see him smile.

"Say what?"

Steve leans in once more. "That we're partners."

"Yes. Yes, we are partners, and that is why this is a bad idea."

"No," Steve says, and now he's really not playing fair, leaning in further to nibble his way down Danny's neck. "'s a good idea."

Danny's fingers are digging into Steve's back, and his whole body is screaming at him to give in. "And when you wake up tomorrow--oh fuck--" Danny's breath hitches on a particularly sharp bite that goes straight to his dick, "I, uh...when you wake up tomorrow, sober, and realize what happened?"

Steve lifts his head, eyes burning Danny with the heat in them. "You think I haven't been dreaming about doing this for months? Don't think I'm gonna wake up tomorrow cured of you, Danno."

Which is flattering and, oh, hey, nice to know that they've been having the same problem, but they also both suffer from the problem of having never acted on it. Because it's a bad idea. Or at the very least one that needs to be thought out and discussed like calm, rational--

"Fuck!" Danny shouts, as Steve's mouth slides down Danny's dick, and either Steve is a prodigy or this is not the first time he's sucked cock, because no one is born with this kind of technique. It sends Danny's pulse sky high and makes him clutch his hands in Steve's hair. 

Steve lifts his head, letting Danny's dick slip out of his mouth with an obscene sound. "You were saying?"

Danny doesn't remember what he was saying, doesn't remember anything other than how that felt, Steve's mouth surrounding Danny's dick. "Come here," Danny says, pulling until Steve is straddling his lap, those insane thighs that Danny has been secretly coveting for months on either side of Danny, and the even better ass sliding along the skin of Danny's legs. Steve's nipple is conveniently placed right in front of Danny's face, and Danny can't help himself, he has to taste. 

At the first lick, Steve hisses. Then Danny bites down lightly, and Steve mutters a curse, arms wrapping around Danny's head like he's never going to let him go. The degree to which Danny is okay with that idea is a little terrifying. 

Steve moves his hips, his dick brushing against Danny's, both of their dicks trapped between their bodies, perfect heat and just enough sweat to keep the friction to a slow burn. It's not even full on sex and it's the best that Danny's had in a long time, and he wants to make it last, but Steve speeds up, and Danny can't help but follow. He falls over the edge quickly, hears Steve shout and feels him tense a moment later. 

By the time Danny catches his breath, Steve is heavy on his lap, draped over him like he's going to stay for a while. Danny doesn't know how long they sit there like that, Steve on his knees, locking Danny in his embrace, until Danny feels the ghost of a kiss on his head, and then Steve slides off onto his side. 

Danny takes a deep breath and chances a look at Steve, who looks...better. Not happy, exactly, but more at peace than he had since they'd found out Taylor had gone bad. "Hey, Danno," he says softly.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

For what, buying him beer? Getting him drunk? Mind blowing sex that may still ruin their lives? Danny turns to ask, but Steve's eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling in slow, even movements. 

Danny lies down beside him, trying to blank out his mind. No point in wondering what morning will bring until you get there. 

He studies Steve's profile for a long time before he finally sleeps.

***

Sunlight is streaming in the window when Danny wakes, blinding him when he first opens his eyes. He rolls over to get away from it, only realizing once he does that he's alone in the bed. He listens, but there are no sounds in the apartment, and a quick glance at his shirt in the corner shows that Steve's is gone. 

Well fuck. 

His phone buzzes, and he looks to see a text from Kono about a case. Great. So he's got to face his partner, who he had sex with, at a crime scene, with Kono, Chin and a bunch of HPD officers all watching. Fantastic. 

How the hell is this his life?

His apartment door opens, and Steve walks in, carrying a pink cardboard box. "Hey," Steve says softly, though whether that's emotion or just because of a hangover, Danny's not sure. "Sorry, did I wake you up when I left?"

Danny shakes his head, keeping all his conclusions to himself. He still doesn't know how this is going to go. "I just woke up."

"Oh good," Steve says brightly, sitting on the bed and putting the box between them. Danny starts salavating at the smell even before he sees the Leonards logo. "I got breakfast." 

Danny can't quite hold back his grin, even as he says, "You hate malasadas." 

"I don't hate them," Steve says. "I just think they should be reserved for special occasions."

Danny raises an eyebrow. "Oh, so this is a special occasion?" he says, but he still can't stop that grin from turning into a full blown smile.

"Well, it's seven in the morning, you haven't had coffee, and you're smiling and not biting my head off," Steve says. "I'd say that qualifies."

And Danny wants to leave it at that, he wants to let it go and be nonchalant about it, but he can't. Not without at least asking the question. "So you're okay then?" he asks seriously. "With this?" he adds, waving a hand between the two of them. 

Steve seems to give the question the consideration it's due before answering, the words slow. "Danny, the last few months have been...well, you've been here. You know. This," Steve says, mimicking Danny's handwave between them, "is one of the bright spots in the middle of all the mess. So yes, to answer your question, I'm okay with it." Steve tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. "Are _you_ okay with it?"

"Yeah," Danny says quietly. "I'm more than okay with it."

"Good." Steve leans in for a kiss. "Then eat your malasada and get dressed before we're late to a crime scene because I can't keep my hands off you."

Danny studies Steve's face for a moment, sees the shadows are still deep in his eyes somewhere, but they're more muted now, getting lighter. "You got it, partner."

\---  
END


	10. 110 - Heihei - Race

"Seriously?" Steve asked, between shoveling fried rice into his mouth. "She hit you on purpose?"

Danny nodded. "Apparently. I never knew it until now."

"You? Clueless? Now there's a surprise."

Steve's voice was dripping with sarcasm, more than Danny really thought the situation warranted. "I'm insulted by your tone," Danny said. "I am a detective. It's my job to figure these things out, a job I am quite good at, thank you."

"I'm not arguing that, bud," Steve said, eyes carefully on the fried rice. "When it comes to the job, you don't miss much."

Danny frowned, watching as Steve paid far too much attention to scooping fried rice onto his plate. Side Street might have the best fried rice this side of the Pacific, but it didn't need that much care. "'When it comes to the job'?" Danny asked.

"Hm?" 

Steve's bites were smaller now, and he was being almost meticulous about picking them up--the worst thing you could possibly do with chopsticks. Danny studied Steve's face for a few seconds, but couldn't read the expression there. At best, he'd label it 'carefully blank.' 

"You said that I don't miss much when it comes to the job. What's that supposed to mean?"

Steve glanced up, eyes not quite meeting Danny's before they went back to his food. "You said you were a good detective. I was just agreeing."

No...it wasn't that. Danny was sure of it, as sure as he was that Steve was not going to give him a straight answer. This was going to require skill. "But you think I'm clueless outside of work?"

"Well, you did miss the fact that Rachel hit you with her car just to get to talk to you."

Which was not the point, but Steve was nothing if not an excellent deflector. "True," Danny said, "but--"

"Of course," Steve cut him off, "she hit someone else for you tonight, so what does that say?"

"That she didn't want Grace to grow up without a father?"

He knew the look Steve gave him then, the one he gave Danny when he was being deliberately obtuse. "Somehow I don't think that's it."

Okay, so clearly Steve saw something between Danny and Rachel that was no longer there. "Well, I'd like to think she doesn't _actually_ want me dead, despite having said she did a few times."

"Danny."

Shit, he was serious. Danny shook his head. "No," Danny said, "whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. Rachel's married to someone else, and that's that."

"If you say so."

Which Danny had learned quickly was McGarrett for 'bullshit.' "I'm serious."

"I know," Steve said. "But we've also established that you tend to miss things that are right in front of your face."

Steve's tone had something extra on it, and Danny turned the words over in his head. He needed more to go on, though. "I'm telling you, there is nothing there. Rachel and me are over."

"Sure."

The flash in Steve's eyes was gone so quickly that Danny almost missed it. Almost. He thought about the look, along with the face and the words. 

No...It couldn't be.... Surely Danny was reading it wrong. 

There was no way Steve could be jealous. 

"What makes you think there's something there, then?"

Steve shrugged, his eyes once again on his fried rice, even though he hadn't eaten another bite since putting more on his plate. "You didn't see her when she realized you were in the house alone," Steve said. "Or when you were in danger."

He didn't sound happy about it, which did nothing to dispel Danny's theory. But the middle of Side Street was not the place to test it. "You about done?" Danny asked.

"Yeah."

"Good." Danny pulled out some bills and laid them on top of the check. "Let's get out of here."

***

Danny invited himself in a for a beer, even if Steve seemed a little reluctant. Or maybe because Steve seemed a little reluctant. When they were behind the house, watching the last rays of the sun set into the water, Danny made his move. 

"I'm curious," he said, putting his bottle down on the table between them. "Why are you so interested in Rachel and me?"

Steve shrugged, putting his own bottle down and standing up. "I want you to be happy," he said, taking a few steps toward the water. "Is that so wrong?"

Danny stood, following until he was less than a step away from Steve's side. "The two of us made each other miserable for half of our marriage," Danny said. "What makes you think she'd make me happy?"

"There's a thin line between love and hate."

Danny rolled his eyes. "That's bullshit," he said, taking another step and tugging on Steve's arm until he turned enough that Danny could see his face again. "Whatever you think you see there, you're wrong."

"Am I?"

That something flashed through Steve's eyes again, longer this time, long enough for Danny to see what it was. Not so much jealousy as pain. Or something like it. 

Still not enough to make a full determination, but Danny was used to going with his gut. And his gut was telling him to do something. "Want me to prove it to you?"

"Sure."

Steve's answer was all bravado, but Danny took it at face value. "Okay, just remember, you asked for it." 

Danny tugged harder on Steve's arm, moving his hand up to cup the back of Steve's head as it came closer, pulling him in for a kiss. Steve froze for a second, but Danny held fast, with just enough pressure that Steve could move away if he wanted.

He moved closer.

The kiss deepened as Steve wrapped his arms around Danny's back. Danny opened his mouth at Steve's insistence, letting him in, giving him every reason to accept that whatever had been between Danny and Rachel, it was in the past. 

Long moments later, Steve lifted his head, looking down at Danny with wonder. "You'll really go to any lengths to make your point," Steve said, his voice hoarse.

Danny huffed, tightening his arms around Steve. "If you think that was just to prove my point," Danny said, "I may need to convince you a little more."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Steve said as he dipped his head once more.

\---  
END


	11. 111 - Palekaiko - Paradise

Steve was quiet the whole drive home. Not that he was normally overly chatty, but his whole body was quiet. Still in a way that he normally wasn't. 

"You want a beer?" he asked, as he pulled into the drive.

He'd turned the car off and pulled the keys out before Danny could even say, "Sure."

Danny followed close behind as Steve went into the house, not bothering to turn on the lights, even though the moonlight was somewhat dim. "Have a seat," Steve said, nodding at the couch as he went through to the kitchen.

He was back with a bottle and two glasses before Danny had even gotten settled. "I thought we were having beer," Danny said, eyes flickering to the whiskey in Steve's hand. 

Steve shrugged. "This is more of a whiskey conversation," he said. "I can get you a beer if you want, though."

Danny shook his head. "No, whiskey is good."

"Good." Steve sat down, pouring generous glasses for them both. They clinked the glasses together, the sound oddly loud in the quiet of the house. 

As Danny took a sip, Steve took a long drink, wincing a little as he swallowed. "So," Danny said, taking a healthier sip, "why are we drinking whiskey?"

"Because it tastes good, Danno," Steve said, taking another long drink. 

"You said this was a whiskey conversation," Danny tried again. "What's the conversation."

Steve drank the rest of the glass while holding up one finger. "I showed Chin the toolbox," he said as he refilled his glass. "He recognized a code in there as an old case file."

He was torn between being glad that Steve had actually trusted another member of their team with this, and feeling a little like he'd lost something now that he wasn't the only one Steve shared it with. "So what was the case?" 

"Well, that's the thing. The case file...it's missing. But it was opened on April 19, 1992." Steve downed half his new glass. "The day my mother died."

 _Fuck._ "That's...an odd coincidence," Danny said, trying hard not to jump to conclusions. "Was it her accident file?"

Steve took another drink. "The, uh...the case wasn't an accident," he said, looking down at his glass. "It was a homicide."

"A homicide?"

"A homicide," Steve repeated, taking a longer drink. "And with the case file missing, that's all I know."

"What does Chin think?"

"That Dad must've been investigating whether Mom was murdered." Steve stared down into his glass again. "When I found out Mom died...that moment shaped my life," he said, looking up at Danny through his lashes. "But that moment was a lie. Everything Dad told me since then was a lie." 

Danny finished off his glass and refilled it, filling Steve's as well when he quickly polished it off. "I don't think everything he told you was a lie," Danny said. 

"How will I ever know what was true, though?" Steve asked around the edge of the glass. "I trusted him." The words were harsh, followed by a long drink. "I trusted him," Steve said again, quieter and yet somehow more desperate, "and he lied to me. For years. He sent me away, he lied about it, and he just...he kept on lying. Even on the phone with me, knowing--" Steve broke off for another drink. "Knowing what was going to happen, the _best_ he could manage was to call me 'Champ.'"

Steve took another drink. "I mean, what if I had never figured out what he meant by that? Would I just be going through life not knowing that everything was a lie?"

The pain in his eyes as almost too much for Danny to handle. "Do you believe," Danny said carefully, "that he didn't love you?"

"No. I don't believe that."

The words were quick, even as the alcohol was making Steve's movements a little more deliberate already. "Then not everything was a lie." 

"I suppose that's comforting."

He didn't sound as if it was, though. He took another drink, looking through the house into the dining room. Into the spot of John McGarrett's murder, Danny realized. 

"So what are you gonna do?" Danny asked, trying to bring Steve back to the present. 

Steve finished off his drink, placing the glass on the coffee table in a quick, decisive move. "I'm going to do what I do best--investigate."

"Right now?"

The half laugh was at least an improvement, even if it was accompanied by eyes that were too bright in the pale moonlight. "No," Steve said, taking Danny's glass out of his hand and putting it next to the one on the table. "Right now I have other things in mind."

Danny's brain was far more sluggish than the whiskey should've caused, his reaction time slowed by surprise as Steve turned suddenly, hitching a leg over Danny's until he was straddling Danny's lap on the couch. 

The kiss was less of a surprise--though more because there were a limited number of reasons that Steve would've just put himself in Danny's lap than because he'd expected Steve McGarrett, of all people, to kiss him.

And not just kiss, Danny thought, as his arms went around Steve's back as Danny kissed back. It was a demanding kiss, designed to get Danny's surrender as quickly as possible.

_Bad idea._

Danny cursed the voice in the back of his head even as he was pushing at Steve just enough to get some air, but not enough to dislodge him from Danny's lap. "What was that for?" Danny asked, trying to ignore his own breathlessness.

"Because I'm tired of not going after the things I want."

There was a wealth of meaning behind that, Danny could tell. "It's that simple is it?"

"Yeah." Steve moved his hands, digging his hands deeper into Danny's hair, fingertips magnificent as they moved against Danny's scalp. "Or it can be."

Danny wanted to give in. So much. But.... "We shouldn't."

"Look, if you're going to tell me you don't want me," Steve said, shadows clouding into his eyes, "then do it."

"It's not that."

The shadows cleared away. "Then what?"

"Why me?" Danny asked. "Why now?"

One corner of Steve's mouth lifted just enough for Danny to see. "Because I trust you."

He'd just learned that his father had been lying to him, that there was this bigger web of lies than he ever knew surrounding his family, and at least part of HPD was clearly in on it, and he trusted Danny. 

"Fair enough," Danny said, pulling him back down into a kiss.

\---  
END


	12. 112 - Hana ʻaʻa Makehewa

One by one, the team filtered out. Kamekona was the first to go, citing a 'thing' at a 'friend's' house that made Danny instantly suspicious. But it was Christmas, he had his new family around and, most importantly, Grace. He could be magnanimous and overlook it this time.

Chin and Kono left about an hour before Grace, after extra hugs from Grace for her presents. Which left Steve, who seemed inclined not to go anywhere. Not that Danny minded--the mental image he had of Steve sitting at home alone at Christmas, staring at the spot where his father had been murdered, was enough to keep any selfishness about sharing his Grace time at bay.

Danny hugged Grace tightly before she left, wishing her Merry Christmas about five times, with a 'Danno loves you' after each one. After the second time Rachel honked the horn, Danny let her go, watching until Grace was in the car and the car was long gone before he shut the door.

He turned to see an unfamiliar expression on Steve's face. "What?" Danny asked.

Steve shrugged, hands in his pockets, and nodded towards the door. "You and Grace," he said, his voice soft in a way Danny didn't hear often. "You're just...something."

He wobbled a little as he said it, and Danny crossed the room quickly, guiding Steve to the couch. "Sit down, you goof, before you fall over."

"Not gonna fall over," Steve said, as he more or less fell onto the couch. 

Danny shook his head and rolled his eyes at the same time, the move making him a little dizzy. Maybe he'd had a little more to drink than he'd realized--though clearly not as much as Steve, who was now sprawled out on the couch, looking rumpled and...inviting, for lack of a better word. And the expression on his face...it was one Danny hadn't seen before, and he didn't know quite what to make of it.

Well, his body was clearly making something of it, but his body was wrong. This was Steve, there was no way his body was right, whatever it was claiming with the heat rising through him.

Danny turned away, intent on cleaning up the mess in the room. Maybe Steve would fall asleep while Danny cleaned, and then in the morning things would be normal again. 

He kept shooting Steve glances, hoping to see him passed out, but every time he looked over, Steve was watching. And he still had that look that Danny didn't quite understand, but the look made Danny nervous. Or something like nervous, anyway--enough like it that he needed to fill the silence in the room.

"It's weird," he said, as he took paper plates the whole six steps to the kitchen and threw them away one by one, "not being home for Christmas."

"It sucks," Steve said, sounding as though he knew exactly what Danny meant, so much so that Danny turned to look at him. His surprise must've shown, because Steve shrugged--no mean feat for someone sprawled out as bonelessly as Steve was. "The first Christmas after Mom died," Steve said, "it was weird, being somewhere else. I mean, Dad came out to see me on Christmas Day, and he even brought Mary, but...it wasn't the same. It wasn't home."

Danny felt a little like a jerk--here he'd been moaning about missing one Christmas at home, and Steve hadn't had one since he was a kid. "Sorry," Danny said softly, fiddling with the napkin on the plate in his hand, "I didn't think--I mean, it must be weird for you, being home for Christmas."

Steve's smile was a little sad, and a little something else, something like that look Danny was still trying to decipher. "It's the first time I've felt like I was home for Christmas in a long time."

His tone matched that face, but Danny still couldn't figure it out. "Glad to hear it," Danny said, turning away and picking up a couple of paper cups. He took his time throwing them out, pausing to wash his hands to avoid that look. 

He turned around finally to find Steve standing right behind him, that look still on his face, and Danny's body refusing to interpret it in any way that didn't make his pants a little tight. "Did you decide to help me clean?" Danny asked, ignoring the high pitch his voice had suddenly taken. "Because if you did, you forgot to bring--"

"Danny," Steve said, his voice low and dark and absolutely not helping Danny's problem with his pants. "Do you ever stop talking?" 

Danny swallowed as he shook his head. "I talk in my sleep."

"I bet," Steve said, shuffling closer, until Danny was trapped against the sink, Steve not quite pressed against him, but close enough that there was nowhere left for Danny to go without pushing into Steve, "that I can make you stop talking."

Steve leaned in, and Danny realized that look on his face had been exactly what his body thought a second before his lips were pressed to Steve's, all doubt removed in one single, searing touch. 

He didn't move any closer, though, didn't press Danny back into the sink, or put his arms around him, he just sat there, his lips freezing Danny in place all on their own. But Danny wanted more. 

Danny pulled Steve in that last half step, his hands on Steve's hips until they were pressing Danny against the sink, and Danny could feel Steve's cock hard against his stomach. Steve's hands landed on Danny's shoulders, moving up until they were in Danny's hair, Steve's hands cradling Danny's head with a gentleness that was at odds with the demanding pressure of Steve's tongue against Danny's mouth.

Lips parting, Danny let Steve in, swallowing the sound Steve made--half moan, half something more animal that sent a shiver through Danny's body. Steve pulled Danny, then, stepping backwards, bringing Danny along with him without breaking the kiss until they ran into the coffee table and almost fell over.

Steve tried to push Danny down to the couch, but Danny pushed back. "Bed," Danny muttered against Steve's lips, between kisses. "One," he had to pause for another kiss, "minute."

"Right. Bed." Steve backed off long enough to shove the coffee table out of the way as Danny pulled out the bed, mercifully with sheets still on it. No pillows, but Danny didn't care, as he pushed Steve down onto the mattress and fell down beside him, sliding over Steve's body to go back to kissing. 

Steve's hands went to the bottom of Danny's t-shirt, pulling it up until they had to break the kiss long enough to get the shirt over Danny's head. Danny got with the program, undoing Steve's buttons and helping him out of his shirt. The feel of Steve's bare chest against his was something Danny hadn't even known he'd needed, but he did now, and he wondered fleetingly how he was going to forget it after tonight.

But that was for tomorrow. Tonight was for getting Steve out of his pants as fast as he could, and being grateful that they'd both lost their shoes at some point earlier. 

Steve laughed a little as he pulled Danny's pants off, making Danny frown. "What, exactly is funny about me getting naked?"

"I promise you there is nothing funny about getting you naked, Danno," Steve said, his voice backing up the statement, and sending another shiver through Danny. "But I'm gonna have a tough time hearing 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus' for a while."

Danny realized he was still wearing his Santa pants and couldn't help giggling as Steve tossed the pants away and pressed himself against Danny, skin against skin from shoulders to toes the best feeling Danny had had in a while. 

No, the best feeling he'd had was the way Steve moved against him, their cocks bumping each other, just enough friction to get Danny off in a hurry, no matter how much he wanted it to last. 

It was worth it though, to feel Steve coming just before he did, feel the way his whole body went tight, those muscles Danny had secretly been coveting for months rigid as Steve still moved just enough that Danny went over the edge as well.

Steve was still sprawled on top of Danny when he remembered how to breathe, and Danny couldn't find it in himself to mind. He stroked his hands up and down Steve's back, matching Steve's slowing breaths until they were somewhere close to normal breathing again.

Steve rolled onto his back, leaving Danny shivering as the cool air hit his skin. Before Danny could reach down for the sheets, Steve got them, pulling them up over both of them. The silence was just about to uncomfortable levels when Steve cleared his throat. 

"When I saw Chin," Steve said, pausing to clear his throat again before continuing, "a little part of me was so relieved that it wasn't you. Not that I want anything to happen to anyone, especially our team," Steve said quickly. "But...." 

"I get it," Danny said, letting him off the hook. Because he did. He loved his team, and he didn't want to lose them. But some losses would be harder than others to take. 

Danny rolled onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow and waiting until Steve's eyes met his. "It doesn't mean you care about them any less," he said, because he felt like Steve needed to hear it. 

"No," Steve agreed. "But you...."

"Yeah," Danny said softly. "I know. It's...yeah, believe me, I know exactly what you mean."

Steve's smile was soft as he leaned up, and Danny met him halfway in a kiss that led to another, and then another before they settled into the bed. Danny slid a leg and arm across Steve's body and used him as a pillow as he drifted off to sleep. 

\----  
END


	13. 113 - Ke Kinohi - The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First time story for ep 113.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this was intense. Hopefully that tension carries through in the words. Soundtrack: Mumford and Son's "[Broad Shouldered Beasts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84V4AQIZMUg)" on repeat.

Danny watches in silence for a moment as Steve flips through the pictures of the evidence on the computer table, everything that had been stolen from the toolbox and lost carefully preserved by Mary and her cell phone. Steve glances up at Danny at last, brow furrowed. “Thanks for coming down to tell me,” Steve says. “Did you need something else?” 

_No, but you clearly do._ “Yeah, uh, how about a beer for coming all the way down here because you didn’t answer your phone?” 

Steve’s lips thin, and he glances back at the screen full of evidence before nodding. “Yeah, sure, I have some in my office.”

Which Danny knew, but he’d kind of been hoping to get Steve to go somewhere else. Get him away from the reminders of everything he’d uncovered, both at HQ and at home. “You know where else they have beer, Steven? Bars.”

Steve stops, already ten feet away, looks over his shoulder, frowning. “We’re already here. And the beer’s paid for.” 

Okay, so he’ll distract Steve here. At least he’s gotten him away from the evidence. “You’re passing up the opportunity to make me pay for beer?” Danny said, hurrying to catch up. “Lead the way.” 

Steve’s movements as he gets the beers out and uncaps them are quick and short, more force than needed behind the actions, but all under tight control. Even the way he throws himself onto the couch beside Danny is the very opposite of relaxed. A little more force and Danny would have sworn Steve had been taking down the couch to arrest it. 

Danny looks for several topics that fit the mood, but nothing comes to mind. He’s halfway through his first beer when he decides fuck it—maybe the only form of distraction is to channel that anger simmering so close to Steve’s skin that Danny can almost see it like the haze of heat off a scorching road. 

“So Koji is out as a line of investigation,” Danny says.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

The words are as short as Steve’s motions, a sharp beat like gunfire. “Maybe? The guy’s dead.” 

“Yeah, but is there evidence to link someone else to his murder?”

“After how we just caught Hiro you think they won’t have been more careful in the hit on Koji?”

Steve shrugs, the tension in his body making it look more like some bizarre hip hop move. “We don’t know until we try.”

He starts to get up, but Danny grabs his arm and drags him back down. “Hang on,” Danny says. “CSU is on scene and they’ll have a report tomorrow, so there’s nothing to do right now.”

“But—“

“No.” Danny’s hand stays on Steve’s arm, and he can feel all that frustration like electricity thrumming through Steve’s skin, making his hand tingle and making his brain wonder if maybe he was right. Maybe Steve really is a Terminator and this is what it feels like to get so close to an android that’s about to overheat and explode.

Except the skin beneath Danny’s hand is hot and real, no sign of the smooth, cool fakeness that he’d expect from a robot. No, Steve is real. So real and right there and not fighting Danny’s touch. 

Danny’s hand slides down to encircle Steve’s wrist, feeling the rapid pulse under Danny’s fingertips. He risks a glance at Steve’s face, finding that same intensity he’d seen when Steve was vowing to rip into Hiro’s life like a bomb.

He’d had to remind himself during that whole tirade that it wasn’t remotely hot. It was, but he’d had to remind himself nonetheless, because it hadn’t been the time and the place.

But now…maybe…. Steve needs something to focus on, somewhere to put that energy that isn’t self-destructive, or worse.

And Danny…Danny just needs.

“Stay,” Danny says, quirking up one corner of his mouth as Steve goes almost still, only that same electricity giving him the appearance of movement. When Steve doesn’t move, Danny lets his smile grow a little. “Good boy.”

A growl starts low in Steve’s throat as he surges forward, breaking Danny’s grip to get two of his own, one on each of Danny’s wrists. Danny rolls with it, knowing he was right, Steve is definitely some kind of Ninja, because in no time Danny finds himself flat on his back on the couch, his wrists now held in one of Steve’s big hands, Steve straddling Danny’s thighs. 

Steve’s nostrils are flaring, his eyes laser focused on Danny’s mouth for a second before meeting Danny’s. “Tell me to stop.” 

Danny shakes his head. “No.” 

“Danny….” 

“What?” Danny’s question is harsh—why aren’t they fucking already? “What do you think you can do to me, Steve, huh?” 

Danny’s sure his heartbeat must be audible from outside the building, unless it’s covered by the harsh breaths that flare Steve’s nostrils in and out as he struggles with the last of his control. “Danny, please….” 

Danny clears his throat, lowering his voice, taking a little of the sting out of the words. “You can’t hurt me, babe,” Danny says. “And you’re not going to send me running for the hills, no matter what you do.” 

Steve licks his lips, a surge of want pushing Danny up, his cock brushing against Steve’s. Steve swallows hard, and Danny loosens his death grip on the couch, carefully placing his hands on Steve’s hips, his thumbs grazing the skin under Steve’s waistband.

It’s that touch that does it, Steve all but diving in, his mouth capturing Danny’s, engulfing him like the waves that had threatened to pull Danny under as a kid. But the waves were scary. This…this is like diving into a volcano without getting hurt. No fear, just the need to swim further into the lava, find the center of the volcano and blow it the fuck up.

He grips Steve’s hips, urging Steve to move, to give Danny the friction he wants, but Steve has other plans. He raises up just enough, his free hand busy getting to Danny’s cock. Danny has a split second to feel cool air on his cock before he’s engulfed by Steve’s mouth, taking him in like a pro. 

Steve’s not gentle, which is fine. Danny doesn’t want gentle. He wants this, the frenzy and the heat and the strength Steve isn’t even trying to hold back. The pleasure builds fast, like a wildfire, burning its way from Danny’s feet all the way up until he comes with a shout, thrusting hard into Steve’s mouth. 

He can still hear Steve’s harsh breaths when the roaring in his ears starts to fade. Danny opens his eyes to see Steve staring down at Danny, the question in his eyes. Danny’s voice is hoarse as he cocks a grin and says, “I hope that’s not all you’ve got.” 

He’s sure he sees Steve’s mouth lift into at least the start of a smile before Steve slides off the couch to his knees, pulling Danny down with him. Danny lets himself be manhandled, the lingering haze of orgasm leaving his muscles a little weak. 

He’s strong enough to stay on his knees when Steve bends him over the couch, though. Strong enough to be steady when Steve spreads Danny’s knees apart and moves between them, strong enough to hold himself up on his elbows as familiar noises lead into Steve’s slick fingers pushing into Danny’s body. 

He’s tight—it’s been a while—but he wants this, wants Steve, and soon he’s open and ready, and the glide of lubricated rubber is a welcome sensation as he lets himself sink back into Steve. It may have been a while, but Danny hasn’t forgotten how good it is, strength to match his own pushing into him, holding him in place, being filled over and over. 

His body has definitely missed it, gets with the program faster than usual. Steve notices—of course he does, even when this distracted he’d notice, he’s a freak—his hand moving down to strip Danny’s cock with strokes perfectly matched to the snap of his hips.

Steve’s thrusts become erratic, and Danny wraps his hand around Steve’s as Steve pushes hard inside one last time, his grip loosening. Danny pushes back, wringing every last magnificent sound out of Steve’s throat as Danny comes again, sagging onto the couch with the full weight of Steve on his back.

A number of harsh breaths later, Steve sags sideways, dragging Danny with him. It’s a few more moments before Steve pulls out carefully. Danny hears the snap of a condom being tied off before Steve puts an arm around Danny, his nose pressed close against the back of Danny’s neck, his breath cool on Danny’s wet, overheated skin.

It takes another moment before Danny realizes that those breaths have evened out into sleep, probably the first sleep Steve has had since the break-in at his house. Danny rolls over carefully in the embrace, not wanting to wake Steve. 

He looks so much younger in sleep, even if that almost ever-present v between his eyebrows is still etched into his skin. Danny runs a finger along Steve’s forehead, watching as it smooths out. It’s a momentary illusion—it’ll settle back into its usual crease soon enough. 

But Danny knows how to make it stop, even if just for a minute. And for now, that’s enough.

\---  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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